


The Promotion

by raven_maiden



Series: Meet the Malfoys [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And Leo is a Precious Potat, Auror Draco Malfoy, Cold Showers, Daddy draco malfoy, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, Gratuitous Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Interrupted Sex, Lyra is a Terror, Pour One Out for Draco's Boner, Protective Draco Malfoy, Scorpius is a Good Boi, Stupidly-In-Love-Dramione, Take Your Potat to Work Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25153420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_maiden/pseuds/raven_maiden
Summary: Draco sucked in air as the fabric pooled around her waist. He closed his eyes, his fingers twitching in the sheets. “Granger, the children...”“Will be asleep for another twenty minutes.” She bent to lick the pulse point behind his ear, and he shivered. “Unless you’re not up to the challenge?”**It was supposed to be a regular day at the office. Instead, Draco Malfoy's morning took a number of highly unexpected turns.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Meet the Malfoys [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717768
Comments: 67
Kudos: 1054
Collections: Completed/Downloaded/Read Works





	The Promotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kumatan0720](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kumatan0720/gifts).



> Hi dears. I know it's been a hot minute, but kumatan0720's adorable art dragged me out of my funk. I hope you are staying healthy and safe, and that this latest installment of Meet the Malfoys brings you a bit of joy in these trying times. 💕
> 
> The series is based kumatan0720 and I's headcanons of the Malfoy brood.

The hour between 5:30 and 6:30 in the morning was Draco Malfoy’s favorite. He always roused first, his body somehow attuned to wake at the first sliver of light peeking through the curtains. He’d rub the sleep from his eyes and stare at the ceiling as sunlight inched towards their four-poster, enjoying the quiet while it lasted. Soon enough, the walls would echo with shrieking giggles and the storm of footsteps evoking drunken goblins. 

A sleepy sound from his right froze him mid-stretch. He glanced over at his wife. She was buried in a cocoon of sheets, her brow furrowed as her eyes moved rapidly behind their lids. 

Hermione was lawless in her sleep. She’d roll from her side to her back to her stomach, taking the bedding along with her. Her pathological duvet hogging had forced him to start wearing pyjamas to bed even before they had children. 

Her breathing deepened again, and he carefully sat up. The muscles in his stomach strained as he leaned to his left, stretching to reach the book on his nightstand. He slid it off the wood and opened it as silently as possible. 

He scanned the page to find where he’d left off, but the text seemed to have grown blurrier overnight. Frowning, he propped his elbow on his hip, bringing the book just beneath his nose. 

A snort interrupted him at the end of the third chapter. 

He turned to find Hermione watching him through a bleary eye. “What?” 

“You’re trying so hard to be quiet.” A smile tugged at her mouth. “It’s cute.”

He shrugged, turning the page. “You need your rest for today.”

A crease appeared between her brows, and she quickly turned to check the clock on her nightstand. 

“What time is it?” 

“Six.” She rolled onto her back, blinking at the ceiling. 

Draco stared at her for a moment before turning back to his book. 

Hermione had an appointment with Kingsley Shacklebolt at 9:00 that morning. When she’d first showed him the letter requesting a meeting to discuss her “return to work plan,” Draco hadn’t seen the problem. Her maternity leave ended in three weeks, and it had seemed like a thoughtful gesture. Then Hermione had reminded him that she’d recently applied for another position without informing Shacklebolt, and he’d understood why she was so paranoid. 

Draco had tried to persuade Hermione to tell Shacklebolt when she first threw her hat in the ring for the Minister’s Chief of Staff position, but she’d insisted her odds of being considered were slim to none. It had taken all of his self control to hold his tongue over the past week while she’d panicked about getting demoted or fired.

Draco trusted Shacklebolt not to do anything that extreme, but he still expected him to give Hermione a dressing down for not keeping him informed. 

He turned another page. 

“You look even grumpier when you squint, you know.” 

Draco opened and closed his mouth. “I wasn’t squinting.”

“You were.” She tossed off the covers and clambered over him, obscuring his vision as she rifled through his drawer. 

“Granger—” 

“A-ha.” She withdrew, sliding his reading glasses on his nose before he could protest. “Better?”

She looked fully awake now, her brow arched and eyes wide in false innocence. He could perfectly make out the gold flecks in the hazel, and the auburn tinges in her hair. 

“No,” he said, glowering at her. 

“Hmm.” Her mouth twitched. “That’s unfortunate.” 

Draco closed his book and set it aside. “What is.” 

“That you hate your glasses so much when you look incredibly sexy in them.” 

His hand paused in the middle of taking them off. “Oh?” 

“Oh.” Her eyes grew darker. “In fact”— she straddled him, her silk nightdress sliding up her thighs— “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look sexier.” 

“Those are some words, Gran—” He broke off with a groan when she pressed her core against the outline of his cock. 

Sunlight caught on her hair as she moved, rocking her hips as he hardened painfully beneath his pyjama pants. She paused to sweep back her curls, holding his gaze as she slipped the straps of her nightdress down her shoulders. 

Draco sucked in air as the fabric pooled around her waist. He closed his eyes, his fingers twitching in the sheets. “Granger, the children...” 

“Will be asleep for another twenty minutes.” She bent to lick the pulse point behind his ear, and he shivered. “Unless you’re not up to the challenge?” 

His eyes flew open with a growl. He rucked up her nightdress and gripped her arse, pulling her roughly against his cock. His neck dipped to suck and lick at her breasts as she whined, arching into him. He broke away to tear off his glasses and she opened her mouth to protest, but then he caught her other nipple with his teeth and her head fell back in a gasp. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he thrust beneath her. 

“You wanna get fucked before work, Granger?” 

“Yes,” she breathed. “God, yes—” 

She pushed his chest back to free him from his pyjama pants, and they both moaned at the feel of her folds against his bare skin. His eyes rolled back when she began gliding over him. He’d be lucky to last more than 60 seconds once he was inside. 

He had to make her come. 

His hand slid between her thighs, and she let out a low keen when he found her clit. Her thighs trembled as he rubbed her in slow circles, her hips bucking to match his pace. The room seemed to vibrate as their pants grew louder, sunlight streaming through the curtains. Hermione’s hips faltered, a flush spreading across her chest. 

“Please,” she said, her eyes glassy. 

“Not yet.” 

“Draco, p—” 

“You can come when I’m inside.” His ears were buzzing as he dropped back into his pillow, gripping his cock as she tilted her hips to meet him. “So fucking perfect,” he whispered. 

His hands moved to interlace their fingers, and she bit her lip as she sunk onto him, moaning softly. 

She was halfway seated when she froze. He frowned up at her, his blood still humming in his ears. Her eyes widened, and she whipped her head over her shoulder, searching for something. Draco blinked, and the moment his mind cleared, he was slipping out of her and she was scrambling off him. 

“Shit!” Hermione ran to their closet. 

The room was buzzing because of her phone. Her bloody Muggle phone. 

He groaned and slapped his hands over his face as she rummaged through her bag.

“Mum? Mum, are you there?” 

There was a long pause. Draco took deep breaths, willing his erection to subside. 

“Oh. Oh, God. Mum that’s awful, I— Where did you go?” 

Another pause. “Good grief. Well— no, of course not. No. That’s absolutely out of the question. Please don’t fuss about it.” 

His eyes shot open. He sat up, propping himself on his elbows. 

“No, really. I promise we have it handled. We can ask Narcissa. You and Dad just focus on getting better, alright?” Hermione swallowed, her eyes wide and anxious as they locked on his. “Love you too. Text me and keep me updated.” 

Her face was pale as she ended the call. “My Mum and Dad went to a new restaurant last night and have been up all night with food poisoning. They can’t watch Leo today.” 

“Shit.” Draco stared at her. “Granger, my parents are in—” 

“France. I know. I lied so she wouldn’t feel guilty.” Hermione dropped her phone in her bag. “Is there any way you can—” 

“Not today. I have that bloody report due at five. And you know the new rules. We’re not allowed to remove classified documents from the Ministry.” 

“Shit,” she said weakly. 

Draco threw the covers off his feet and got out of bed. “I know Tinsley’s on leave right now, but I’m sure she’d—” 

“No. That’s out of the question.” Hermione was still for a moment. Then she spun to their closet and grabbed a robe, shrugging it over her shoulders. “I’m going to Ginny and Harry’s.” 

His eyebrows raised. “Wearing that?” 

She slid on a pair of flats and cinched the robe around her waist, ignoring him. “Ginny’s on holiday. She should be at home with Lily and James. It’s a big favor to ask, but I’m sure she’ll do it.” 

“Alright.” Draco watched her hurry to the fireplace and grab a handful of Floo powder. “What time is Ceely coming over again?” 

“Fifteen to seven.” Hermione squinted at the clock on the mantlepiece. “Lyra will be awake soon, so if I were you, I’d—” 

“I’ll hop in the shower now.” He rubbed his eyes, and when his vision cleared, his wife was gone. 

Draco sighed as he headed to their bathroom and stepped in the shower. There was no need for cold water— his erection had been replaced by a heavy ache in his groin that was all too familiar these days. 

It was possible that they could pick up later, but it depended on how Hermione’s meeting with Kingsley went. In all probability, he’d have to settle for a solid wank that evening.

The shampoo was almost out of his hair when he spotted a terrifying shape through the foggy glass. Draco yelped, his feet slipping across the tiles as his back smacked against the wall. 

“Daddy?” 

“Jesus!” He jerked the taps off and hunched over at his knees. “Lyra, you scared the—” 

“Daddy, I’m hungry.” 

“Alright.” His tailbone was throbbing. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll come down and make your breakfast.” 

“My tummy hurts!”

Draco grimaced at the pitch of her voice. The last thing Hermione needed was to come home to a tantrum. 

“I know you’re hungry, darling. But I can’t make you breakfast while I’m in the shower, now, can I?”

“No.” He could hear her pout. 

“I’ll fix you something as soon as I come out. Turn around.”

He waited until the small figure rotated before cracking open the door and grabbing his towel, wrapping it around his waist. 

Draco snatched his wand and cast a quick drying charm on his hair while Lyra bobbed at his heels like a grumpy supervisor. He strode to the closet to get dressed, closing the door behind him. He’d just managed to pull on his pants when the door flung open. 

“What’s taking so long?” 

The flush on Lyra’s cheeks told him he had roughly two minutes until a meltdown. 

He took a calming breath as he yanked a nearby shirt off its hanger and pulled it over its head. “I’ll be quicker if you stop interrupting me.” 

She huffed. “But my tummy—” 

“Would you like a Nutella sandwich for breakfast?” 

The effect was instantaneous. Lyra’s eyes widened, her lips parted in a silent “o.” 

“I thought so. But I can only give it to you on one condition.” He reached for a pair of black trousers next. “You have to go downstairs— _not yet”_ —she wobbled to a halt— “and you have to sit at the dining table. _Quietly_.” 

Draco cringed as Lyra ran out of the room and into the corridor, her feet slapping against the wood. They were silencing charms inside Leo’s room, but sometimes the mere vibrations of Lyra’s stomping woke him up. 

He finished dressing and grabbed his wristwatch from his desk. It was twenty to seven, and Hermione had been gone for nearly twenty minutes. Draco tried not to feel irritated. At least Ceely would arrive soon. He could ask her to feed Leo until Hermione returned. 

Tiptoeing down the corridor, he cracked open the door to Scorpius’ room. It was empty— the curtains drawn and the bed already made.

Draco found Scorpius sitting next to Lyra at the dining table, looking sour as she pounded the table with her fists. His clean clothes and neatly combed hair were a sharp contrast to his little sister’s wild curls and crumpled niffler nightdress. 

Scorpius’ face lit up with relief when he saw him. “Dad! Lyra says we’re having Nutella for breakfast—”

“We _are!_ Daddy promised!” Lyra turned to grin at him, showing off her missing bottom teeth. 

“I said Nutella sandwiches,” said Draco, massaging his temples. “Not just Nutella—” 

“See?” Lyra pointed her spoon at Scorpius with a leer. 

“You said Nutella! Dad, she tried to climb on the counter and I stopped her—” 

“Did not!” 

“Did too!” 

“She’s lying!”

“ _Enough!_ ” 

They both fell silent. 

“If you don’t behave yourselves, I’ll make you scrambled eggs. With _spinach_.” Draco glared down at them. “Am I making myself clear?” 

Scorpius’ shoulders slumped as he nodded. Lyra, however, narrowed her eyes. 

“You said Nutella sandwiches—” 

“If you sat _quietly_.” Draco lifted a brow. “Is that what you’re doing right now?” 

Lyra shifted, scowling down at her plate. 

“I’m going to the kitchen. And if I hear so much as one _peep_ , it’s eggs and spinach for the both of you.” 

There was a collective shudder across the table. 

Four minutes later, Draco lifted his heating charm and removed the toast from the pan. He glanced at his wristwatch again before prying open the jar of Nutella. It was ten to seven. Ceely was five minutes late, and Hermione had now been gone for half an hour. 

The one positive was the blissful silence in the other room. Apparently few things were as effective in motivating his children as the promise of chocolate. Or the threat of his cooking. 

He was almost finished slathering the final piece of toast with the sugary spread when the room lit up with blue. Draco froze, his fingers stilling on the knife. The room glowed blue again. 

Leo was up. 

Draco slapped the pieces of bread together and tossed the knife in the sink as the room flashed blue again. The flashes would continue until he counteracted the noise detection spell or opened the door to Leo’s bedroom. 

Lyra squealed when he strode into the dining room. 

“Dad, Leo’s up!” Scorpius’ eyes were round as Draco served him. “Where’s Mum?” 

“She had to run out for a bit.” 

Lyra panted like a wildcat as Draco moved around the table, sniffing at her plate when he set it down. 

“Lyra, _enough_.”

The panting ceased. 

“Listen carefully, you two. I have to go upstairs to check on Leo, and I expect you to behave yourselves while you eat. Do I make myself clear?” 

Scorpius nodded solemnly. Lyra followed suit, her eyes gleaming. 

“Good.” 

The blue light flashed again, and Draco’s pulse raced. He was back in the kitchen in a few long strides. He grabbed a bottle of milk from the cold room before hurrying to the stairs. 

The upstairs corridor was illuminated by flash after flash of blue. Draco practically flew over the wood, turning the corner and wrenching open the door of the last room on the right. The fireplace in the guest room was empty and still. 

Cursing, Draco glanced at his watch. It was five past seven, and Ceely and Hermione were nowhere to be found. He wasn’t supposed to see Leo in the mornings before work, but maybe he should— 

Another flash. Draco’s heart clenched. 

Leo Malfoy, age eleven months, was a wonderful baby in almost every regard. He was clever, his hazel eyes as curious and overlarge as his mother’s. He was gregarious, able to ensnare even the coldest of strangers with a gummy smile. His coo turned heads, and his laughter stopped hearts. His one weakness was his obsession with his father. 

Hermione had caught the shift a few months ago. Leo had started reaching for Draco whenever he came home, fussing until he picked him up. When Draco had handed Leo off to Hermione for feeding sessions, it started taking longer for him to calm down. His preference for Draco had actually forced Hermione to move to bottle feeding earlier than she’d planned.

Leo was perfectly behaved as long as he didn’t see Draco. If he did see him, he was perfectly behaved as long as he didn’t leave the room. They learned this lesson the hard way about a month ago, when Leo had screamed for hours after Draco kissed his head and left. 

The walls lit up again—this time a richer shade of blue. The color registered behind Draco’s eyelids like physical pain. He couldn’t leave him alone for a moment longer. 

Gritting his jaw, he spun on his heel and slammed the door behind him. 

He wrenched open the door to Leo’s bedroom seconds later, and the plaintive howling that filled the corridor made his stomach drop. Leo’s wails grew louder, his tiny fists clutching the rails of his cot. 

Draco set the bottle down and rushed over, scooping Leo into his arms. He patted his back, shushing him as he moved to draw back the curtains. The room filled with light, and— Draco’s nostrils flared— smell. 

Leo’s sobs broke out anew as Draco laid him on the changing table, pulled out a fresh outfit from a drawer below, and cast a series of spells to change his nappy and clothes. It took him a moment to locate the bottle. Draco crossed the room to snatch it from the dresser and cast a quick heating charm, flinching at an especially loud wail from behind him. A drop on his hand confirmed the milk was at the perfect temperature. Spinning around, he picked Leo up just as his trousers finished buttoning themselves. 

Draco settled them into the chair by the window, bending his knees and pushing back with all his strength. They rocked back and forth as Leo’s whimpers grew quieter and quieter. Draco shifted Leo to his other shoulder and shook out his right arm to check the time. Almost ten past. 

After another minute, Draco slowed them to a halt. He slid Leo off his shoulder and rearranged him in the crook of his elbow. 

Leo snuffled up at him, his eyes puffy and his brow furrowed in a slight look of betrayal. Draco smiled in spite of himself. “Hungry?”

They were a quarter through the bottle when the corridor erupted in noise. Leo’s fluttering eyelids shot open, and Draco craned his neck just in time to see a blur of pink sprinting past the open doorway. 

Scorpius burst inside the room. “Dad, I tried to stop her— she wouldn’t listen!” 

Draco’s mouth fell open. Scorpius’ face was red, his eyes watering with rage. His shirt was splattered in Nutella. 

“What—” 

“She was eating out of the jar and I tried to take it from her, but she wouldn’t let go. And then it exploded all over the kitchen—” 

“Lyra?” Draco yelled. “Lyra, come here!” 

There was a commotion in the distance: a scream and a stumble, followed by a slammed door. 

Scorpius humphed, crossing his arms. Draco blinked down at Leo, who was staring at his brother with equal astonishment. 

“Sir?”

Draco and Scorpius jumped to find a small elf standing in the doorway. 

“Ceely! Thank God you’re here—” 

“Good morning, Sir.” She wrung her hands. “Ceely hates to be telling you this, but Miss Lyra—” 

“I know. She made a mess in the kitchen as well. Please see to it that she cleans up.” Leo squirmed, and Draco returned his bottle before looking up at Scorpius. “Her brother will be helping her.” 

“But—” 

“No excuses. No fighting next time. Come tell me straight away if she’s breaking the rules.” 

Scorpius pouted and kicked at the carpet. “Yes, Dad.” 

“Ceely!” a voice called from the corridor. “There you are. I’m sorry I’m—” 

Hermione stumbled to a halt in the doorway. 

“Mum!” Taking a running leap, Scorpius threw his arms around her middle. 

She returned his embrace, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. “Draco, why are you feeding Leo?” 

Scorpius pulled away, leaving a smear of Nutella on her robes. 

“Long story.” Draco felt a muscle twitch in his cheek. “Why were you gone for an hour?” 

Her shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. Harry intercepted me. He didn’t know I was looking at other positions, and then I had to tell him the whole story. And then I had to turn him down when he tried to talk me into returning to the DMLE.” 

Leo began fussing, and Draco angled the bottle to give him better access. He forced his shoulders to relax. “It’s fine. Leo woke up at ten to, and Ceely was running late—” 

“Late?” The word came out like a shriek. “Ceely isn’t _late!_ Missus is telling Ceely to arrive at fifteen past seven this morning!” 

There was an awkward pause as Hermione stared at her. “I thought I said fifteen to.” 

Ceely shook her head. “Fifteen past! Ceely is always writing it down, she can show Missus her planner!” 

“That won’t be necessary, Ceely. I’m sure it was my fault.” Hermione drew a sharp inhale and turned to Scorpius. “Sweetheart, why don’t you—” She broke off, frowning. “What happened to your clothes?” 

“It was Lyra! She—” 

“You don’t want to know,” said Draco. “Trust me.” 

Ceely cast a nervous look between them. “Ceely is taking care of it, Missus, don’t worry. Come, Mister Scorpius.” With a final sulk at the carpets, Scorpius followed her from the room. 

“Well?” said Draco, once their footsteps had faded. 

Hermione let her hand drop from her mouth. “Well, what?” 

“Can Potterette watch him or not?” 

“Yes, but...” She sagged against the doorframe, pressing her eyes closed. “Now that he’s seen you, he’s going to throw a fit when you leave.”

Draco looked down at Leo. He was getting lazier as he drained his bottle, dribbling milk down his chin. “He—seems a bit tired. Maybe we can get him to fall asleep.” 

Hermione’s eyes flew open. “Really?” 

“Er— maybe.” Draco shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.” 

“Right. Good.” She drew her wand, closing the curtain and dimming the lights with a flourish. “I told Ginny I’d drop him before eight. I’ll prepare his changing bag and come back to check on you.” 

“Mm. You might want to clean your robe as well.” 

Hermione glanced down at herself and cursed.

*

Ten minutes later, the bottle was empty, Draco’s thighs were burning, and Leo was no closer to falling asleep. 

After a thorough burping, Leo had given Draco his first gummy smile of the morning. He’d watched with solemn curiosity as Draco rocked them back and forth, making various soothing noises to no success. When Leo began giggling and kicking his legs, Draco finally gave up. 

Hermione was half-dressed and stuffing nappies into Leo’s bag when Draco opened the door to their bedroom. She looked up at them with alarm. 

“It’s useless.” Draco ran his free hand through his hair. “He’s not tired.” 

Hermione bit her lip. “Did you try singing...?”

“I tried everything.” 

“Ma!” Leo grinned at her as they approached, extending a chubby fist in her direction. Hermione’s eyes grew large, sensing an opportunity. But Leo jerked back when Draco tried to hand him over. 

“Damn.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Are you sure we can’t just give him a few drops of Dreamless Sleep?”

“No.” 

“But the Healer—” 

“We’ve been over this before. I’m not comfortable.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“There’s still something else we can try.” Draco hoisted Leo in the air, smiling up at him as he squealed. He flipped his little body over and plopped him on the mattress belly first, crouching low so his nose was just visible over the comforter. Leo pushed himself on his elbows, giggling as Draco made a silly face at him. 

“Granger, get down here,” Draco muttered. 

“That didn’t work last time—” 

“Got a better idea?” 

Hermione dropped to her knees.

They both took turns popping over the mattress while their son screamed in delight. 

_“Peek-a-boo!”_

_“Who’s a good baby? You’re a good baby!”_

_“Peek-a….BOOOOOOOO!”_

After the dozenth time, Hermione grabbed Draco’s elbow and jerked her head to the left. 

Draco nodded. He dropped to his stomach while she popped over the bed. 

“ _Peek-a-boo!_ ” 

A fresh round of giggles. 

Slowly, quietly, Draco began crawling around the bed. 

“ _Peek-a...boo-boo-boo!”_ Hermione jumped up to tickle Leo, and the bedframe rattled as he shrieked. 

She tried again, and again, but the laughter grew shorter and more hesitant. Draco had just reached the other side of the bed when Leo let out his first hiccup. 

“None of that, my sweet baby.” He heard Hermione duck again. “ _Peek-a...b-b-b-b-boo!”_

There was a brief pause, and then— a long wail. 

“Oh, darling—” 

Draco squeezed his eyes shut as Leo erupted in sobs. 

Hermione picked him up, bouncing and shushing him. Draco could hear her moving about the room as she tried different motions and sounds. She’d just started humming when Leo let out a full-fledged howl. 

“Da!” 

“Shhhh—” 

“Daaaa—” 

Draco flinched, dropping his head against the side of the bed. Each broken sob felt like a shard of glass in his chest. 

He lasted forty more seconds before he scrambled to his feet. Leo’s back was facing him, and Hermione’s eyes popped as she clutched him to her chest. 

“Go!” she mouthed at Draco, gesturing at the door. “Get out—” 

Leo’s head turned, and time stopped as his watery eyes locked on his father. The hopeful look on his face sliced through Draco’s heart.

“Da!” Leo thrashed with abandon, trying to reach him. “Daaa!” 

Snot and drool streamed down his face, his face purple with sobs as Draco quickly crossed the room and swept Leo into his arms. 

“What are you—” Hermione slapped both hands to her forehead. “Now he’s never going to calm down! I can’t take him to Ginny’s like this—”

“You’re not going to.” Draco stroked Leo’s hair as he bawled into his shoulder, twisting his head from side to side. “I’m taking him to work.” 

“You—what?” 

“Shhh— shhh—” Draco pressed a kiss to Leo’s head and rubbed his back, pacing as he pacified him. When the wailing finally ebbed, Draco looked up at Hermione. “He’s coming to the office with me.” 

Hermione was still gaping at him. “Are you sure?” 

“Positive.” Draco wiped Leo’s face with his sleeve and pulled his wand from his pocket, charming away the tears and dribble. “Goldstein did it last month when he and his wife were in a pinch. Vance said it was fine.” 

“But—” She blinked, lost in thought. “You have that report due today. He’ll distract you.” 

“I’ll manage.” Draco shifted Leo to his other arm to check his watch. It was fifteen to eight. “He naps in what, two hours?” 

“Two and a quarter.” 

“Then you can pick him up from my office when he’s still asleep. I doubt your meeting will go past eleven.” 

Hermione released the curl she’d been chewing on. “That actually might work. Kingsley only asked for an hour and a half.” 

“Perfect. We’ll be fine until then.” Draco brushed a lock of hair from Leo’s forehead. “Won’t we?” 

Leo sniffed in reply.

Draco met Hermione’s eyes. “We should go. I want to get to my office before the morning rush.” 

“Right.” She sprang into action, shrinking Leo’s changing bag and tucking it into Draco’s back pocket. She summoned a packed bag from their dresser next, shrinking and placing it in his front pocket (“Breakfast from Ceely— there’s coffee inside, so take it out before you sit.”). She dabbed some cream on Leo’s irritated skin and instructed Draco to rub it in while she summoned his pram. 

Draco froze. “His pram?” 

“Yes.” It materialized with a flick of her wand. 

Dread prickled beneath his skin. “Oh.”

“What?” Hermione’s tone was impatient. “You can’t hold him the entire time. And he needs a place to nap.” 

“Right.” Draco’s palms felt sweaty as he eyed the pram. “It’s just… not very subtle.” 

“Our _son_ isn’t subtle! I don’t see another—” Hermione paused, and her eyes lit up. She flourished her wand, and a pile of gray fabric appeared in her hands. Draco barely had a chance to groan when the material began soaring through the air and wrapping around his torso. 

Draco glared holes into his wife’s head as she directed the fabric, threading it over and under his shoulders and encircling his waist. Leo gurgled in surprise as the material wound around his back and legs. 

The baby wrap had been a gift from Hermione’s second cousin. Draco often found her wearing it when he returned from work, and it never failed to look ridiculous. 

Hermione’s mouth quirked once it was secure. “Oh— I almost forgot.” 

She summoned one of his thicker cloaks and draped it over his shoulders, pulling his arms through the sleeves. Tilting her head, she tugged the long sides of the cloak so they fell around his front, playing with them until Leo was mostly obscured from view. 

“There. That’s more inconspicuous.” 

Draco growled and spun to the full-length mirror by their wardrobe. He narrowed his eyes at his wife’s reflection as she stood behind him, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. 

“I look like a pregnant bat.” 

Hermione pressed her giggling mouth into the heel of her hand. “You do not—” 

The edges of the cloak began slipping, revealing a growing mop of sandy blond curls. 

“Da!” said Leo. He kicked his chubby legs, and the fabric slid all the way down. 

“We could try a Disillusionment Charm—” 

“No. He’d hate it.” Draco turned, grimacing as he examined his reflection from the side. “Good luck with Shacklebolt. If you’re not in my office by twenty to eleven, I’m sending a search party.” 

The last thing he heard over the whoosh of the fireplace was his wife dissolving into hysterics. 

Draco braced himself as he stepped out of the Ministry fireplace. Tucking behind the brick pillar, he poked his head to the right, and then the left. Leo followed suit, his eyes as wide as saucers. 

Relief washed over him as he took in the surroundings. It was ten to eight, and the Atrium was largely empty. He’d beaten the crowd. He straightened, adjusting his cloak over most of Leo’s head and body, checking to make sure his airway was clear. 

A whoosh from behind him made Draco’s eyes pop. People were arriving. 

Draco set off in the direction of the lifts, one hand on Leo’s back to hold the cloak in place. He kept his eyes firmly ahead of him, ignoring the looks from the people milling about the Atrium. A group of chatting coworkers fell silent when he rounded the fountain, and he picked up his pace. His cloak began slipping with each long stride, revealing more of Leo’s hair. 

Draco slammed the button to summon the lifts, and Leo wiggled as the cloak fully slid off his shoulders. 

“Ba.” 

Draco blinked down at him. Leo’s cheeks dimpled.

“Baba!” 

“Oh, how precious.” Draco startled to see an elderly witch at his elbow, gazing at Leo through crinkled eyes. “He reminds me of my grandson. He’s what, about a year old?” 

“Eleven months.” Draco took a pointed step in the opposite direction. 

Leo extended the fingers he’d just been gnawing on. “Ga!” 

“Goodness, what a charmer!”

She reached for Leo’s hand, and Draco jerked backward in the nick of time. 

“Sorry.” He wrapped his cloak around his body again, leaving Leo’s head free just above the chin. “I’m afraid my son has terrible allergies. Can’t be too careful.”

The scandalized look on the witch’s face instantly melted. “Not a problem. Poor darling.”

“Ga,” said Leo, with a toothless smile. 

A lift to the right dinged open— empty except for one man. Draco nearly sprinted towards it. The witch tried to follow. 

“You should probably wait for the next one,” said Draco, spinning to block the entrance. “We’re going down to the courtrooms.”

The woman peered at the sign above the lift. “But it says—”

The doors closed. 

“Malfoy?”

Draco whipped around to find Harry Potter gaping at him like he’d grown an extra head. Which— he supposed he had. 

“Ga!” Leo kicked, waving a slobbery fist. 

“Hey there, nipper.” Potter stared at him, then dragged his eyes to Draco. “I thought—”

“Clearly not. We had to make other arrangements.” 

The lift began moving, and Leo’s jaw dropped. “Buh!” 

Draco gave him a reassuring pat while pretending to straighten his robes. “What are you doing here so early, then?”

Potter blinked several times. “I was _actually_ in the courtrooms. I had to pull some records for my report.” 

“Ah.” Draco cleared his throat. He could feel his cheeks burning. 

“Malfoy, what—”

“Not a word, Potter.” 

“But—”

“I said, _not a word_.”

“Alright, easy.” Potter raised his hands.

“Ga ba!” said Leo. 

A smirk tugged at Potter’s mouth. He ducked his head as he turned to face the doors. 

Draco channeled his tension into glaring at the lift buttons, willing them to move faster. His heart skipped a beat after they passed Level Four. They were slowing prematurely. 

“Shit.” He clenched his fists. “I’m not here, Potter. Got it?”

Potter scratched the back of his head. “If you say so.” 

Draco spun to face the corner just as the doors opened. 

“Hey, Harry.” 

His blood froze. Weasley. 

“Ron.” Potter let out a slight cough as Weasley shuffled inside. “How’s it going.” 

“Bloody awful. I got here early to request a copy of the Dublin file, and no one’s even here.” 

Potter grunted in sympathy. 

“Still can’t believe Vance sprung this report on us. I’ve barely even started—” 

There was a stilted silence as the lift doors closed. 

“Taking a piss in the corner, Malfoy?”

“No,” he said through gritted teeth. They began to move. 

“Why are you—” 

“Mind your damn—” 

“Da?” 

Both men broke off. 

Draco winced as Weasley appeared in the periphery of his vision, his nose pressed against the wall. 

“What's Leo doing here?” Weasley stepped away. “Harry, what..?”

Draco rolled his shoulders and turned, fixing him with his iciest stare. “That’s none of your concern.” 

Weasley gaped at Leo. Then up at him. 

Potter let out a hacking cough across the lift. “Sorry— have a bit of a cold—” 

Weasley’s face broke out in a slow grin. He began chuckling while Harry erupted in another coughing fit. 

“Yes, terribly funny,” Draco sneered. “Let me remind you that I have photos from both of your stag parties, and I’m all too happy to distribute them around the Ministry if you don’t _bugger off._ ” 

The lift doors opened, and Draco swiftly exited, striding in the direction of his office. He was too irritated to bother with his cloak. 

The floor in the Aurors’ wing was mercifully empty, the desks missing their usual occupants. Draco rounded the corner to his office, and he caught a glimpse of Mandy Brocklehurst’s stunned expression across the corridor before he flicked open his door and slammed it behind him. 

He tore off his cloak and removed the shrunken items from his pockets, tossing them on his desk before collapsing in his chair. 

He caught his breath, his attention narrowing in on his beaming son. “Enjoying yourself, are you?” 

Leo let out a giggle that ended in a shriek. “Da!” 

Draco’s mouth twitched. 

Ten minutes later, Draco had downed his coffee and managed to eat three-quarters of his breakfast. He was crumbling the rest of his sandwich and feeding it to Leo with one hand, arranging papers on his desk with the other, when there was a knock on his door. He went very still.

Another sharp rap. 

Draco quickly banished the mess from Leo’s face. “Come in.” 

The door swung open, and in stepped Brocklehurst— the most notorious gossip in the DMLE. 

Her eyes honed directly on Leo. “Oh my god! I _knew_ it! I _knew_ I saw Granger’s hair!” 

Draco sighed. “Keep this between us, will you?” 

*

An hour and a half later, Draco was in the middle of fending off his sixth visitor. 

Johnson had dropped by about twenty minutes after Brocklehurst, followed by Patil; Wood and Davies had doubled up on him at the beginning of the hour. Draco had been in the middle of changing the sign on his door to read “Occupied” when he was accosted by Lisa Corner. 

Draco had barely managed any work in between. It had been difficult to focus with Leo gnawing on his fingers, and each time he was ready to start writing, Leo would reach for his other hand. By the time he’d managed to locate a new chew toy, there would be another knock on the door. 

“—really hope you consider bringing him on Sunday,” Corner was saying. “I just know he’d love my April. It should be fun for the adults as well. Luna and Rolf will be there, of course, and they’re bringing their twin boys— Lysander and Lorcan. I’m not sure if you’ve had a play date yet, but I think they’d get along—” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t promise anything. Leo doesn’t go to large parties.” Corner looked slightly offended. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sure it will be our loss—” 

“Why not?” 

“There’s too many other children around. He—” Draco hesitated. “He has a delicate immune system.” 

“A delicate immune system,” she said dryly. 

Draco followed her pointed gaze. His eyes popped out. Leo was sucking on his used quill. 

“Fuck.” He snatched it from Leo’s mouth. “Sorry, Corner, but I have to ask you to leave— I”ll have Hermione owl you—”

Fifteen minutes later, the ink was gone from Leo’s face, and he’d just finished his mid-morning bottle. His eyelids began fluttering as Draco set the bottle aside, wiping his mouth with a flannel. 

“At least one of us is having fun.” 

Leo yawned, rubbing his red-rimmed eyes. 

“You like people too much, you know,” said Draco. “We’ll have to fix that before you get to Hogwarts.” 

Leo gave him one last sleepy smile before his eyes closed.

Draco lifted his wand and cast a quick nonverbal spell, changing the sign on his door to read, “Knock if you have a death wish.” 

When the room was filled with soft snores, Draco kissed his son’s forehead, leaned forward, and began to work. 

*

A half hour later, the doorknob turned. Draco’s quill froze as the knob turned again, and the door his office creaked open. 

Hermione. 

Her face was flushed as she slipped inside, closing the door gently behind her. “Hi,” she mouthed. 

Draco swiveled his chair to face her while she tiptoed around his desk. “How’d it go?” he whispered. 

Hermione paused, glancing nervously at Leo. 

“It’s fine if you whisper. He’s out cold.” 

She nodded, and her eyes glittered as they lifted to Draco’s. “I got the job. The Chief of Staff position.” 

Blood rushed in his ears. “What?” 

“Merriweather and the Minister were there. It was an impromptu interview, and they told me right afterward. I have a few more hurdles to pass before it’s official, but they said it’s as good as mine.” 

“Holy shit—

“I know.” Hermione brought her fingers to her lips, nearly on the verge of tears. “Merriweather is going to train me over the next few months while Kingsley and I search for my replacement. I can’t believe—” 

Draco sprang out of his chair and kissed her. 

She gripped his shoulders as she returned it, pressing her lips against his. Her fingers slid into his hair, her stomach pressing against Leo— and she broke off with a gasp. “We’ll wake him!” 

“Sorry—” Draco stumbled backward, blinking down at his chest. 

Leo was still snoring softly, unperturbed. 

After a moment or two, Hermione crept forward, rising on her toes to get a better look. “Unbelievable. You must have really exhausted him.”

“The opposite, actually.” 

She chuckled, and he looked down at her. 

“Congratulations,” he murmured, tucking a curl behind her ear. “This is incredible.”

Her eyes looked shiny again. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“Yes, you could have.” 

She gave him a dazzling smile. 

A few minutes later, Leo’s things had been packed away, and he was safely attached to Hermione’s chest. He hadn’t even flinched when they shifted him, still dead to the world. 

Draco watched them move towards the door with a growing pit in his stomach. “Granger— are you sure you shouldn’t leave him here?” 

She stilled, her hand on the doorknob. “What?” 

His throat bobbed. “It’s a long way to the Atrium. If Leo wakes up—”

“Vance said I could use her personal Floo. I ran into her on the way in.” 

“Ah.” Draco looked away, staring at the milk stain on his desk. 

“Speaking of Vance, she wanted me to tell you that you have two extra days to turn in your report. The entire department has been given an extension.” 

His head jerked up. “What?” 

“Apparently she wanted to tell you earlier, but was discouraged by the death threat on your door.” Hermione arched a brow. 

“Right.” Draco scratched his jaw. “See you at a quarter past five, then.” 

“See you,” said Hermione, opening the door and stepping through. “Oh, and one last thing—” 

He paused in the middle of opening a file. 

“I was wrong about what I said this morning. Your glasses aren’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen you in. A baby wrap is.” 

Draco’s jaw went slack. 

“Hope you’re not _too_ worn out, Malfoy. I have some unfinished business with you tonight.” 

And with a wink and a click of the door, she was gone. 

Art by [kumatan0720](https://kumatan0720.tumblr.com/). 😍💕

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed, lovelies. Kudos or comments are love and encouragement. 🥰 
> 
> Big thanks to my love [Meggie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weestarmeggie/) for Britpicking. She's amazing- please read all of her works. 
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr! Follow kumatan0720 on ](https://raven-m-3.tumblr.com)[Tumblr](https://kumatan0720.tumblr.com/)!  
> 


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